


The magic in your eyes, the mystery of your heart

by Phoebmonster



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst in chapter 3, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoebmonster/pseuds/Phoebmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's magic, there's monsters, and one hell of a case for Peggy ( Cartinelli, Men in Black-ish AU )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is an au but everythings mostly the same other than, y'know, monsters. the monsters covered in this aren't all mutants (like x-men style), its more a mix of 'i-was-born-like-this' - vampires, werewolves, mages etc to early messing-with-radiation mutants (think hulk but less dramatic). I'm kinda vague abt it in this fic so fill in the gaps with whatever crazy ya wanna. I've also avoided gendered language in this, so the monsters can be both male and female.
> 
> idk why but i kind of imagine peggy in this as some kind of 70s cop, with the blue power suit and the gold badge and aviators ..... pls someone rewrite agent carter as a gay 70s cop show. 
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

The reel shuddered into life, clicking through a few frames of static before the sound of trumpets and a flashy logo appeared on the screen. "The Strategic Scientific Reserve, or SSR for short, is an elite branch of government that you have been chosen for! The job role involves top secret information, which will now be shared with you, our new employees."

Peggy rolled her eyes. She could swear there was only one voice actor in the whole of the American government, and he had the most nasal and clipped British accent ever. His speech was truly an affront to all that was British, Peggy thought, and it gave real British people a bad name - and created a terrible stereotype.

The film continued behind her, and Peggy stared out into the faces of her audience (all male, of course.) Some were shocked, others mesmerised, and a few looked a little green. Well, it was a surprise to many what a job in the SSR actually entailed.

"You may have never realised, but, since the dawn of time, and more recently, through atom experiments, there have been individuals who are different from ourselves. They possess extra-normal powers, abilities or appearances that may confuse the general public."

On the screen, images flashed passed - men sprouting fur, grainy images of a man covered in blood, latched onto a person’s neck, another man surrounded by smoke, his eyes wide and white

"These are monsters," the voiceover said, "and it is your job to keep them in check, and remove them from public sight if necessary. It is of the utmost importance that you do not reveal the information shown to you to anyone. Have a good day, and welcome to the Strategic Scientific Reserve!

The film clicked back onto static and the lights came up. Peggy stood up and ran her hands over her skirt.

"The welcome booklet is underneath your chairs. Are there any questions before we enter the orientation?" She said, with a forced cheerfulness.

There was stunned silence.

A man in the second row, with slick black hair and glasses, raised his hand, then pointed to the man next to him.

"Miss? I think that guy's out for the count."

Peggy pursed her lips. He did seem a little limp. 

"There's always one. If the rest of you would like to leave by the exit on the left, Agent Jackson will show you to your assigned desks." The men began to file out, and Peggy was left to deal with the unconscious man. 

// 

Peggy's job was simple - to research, catalogue and contain (if required) all non-human elements of New York. Increasing atomic accidents and rising immigration meant that monsters were no longer a problem that the government could ignore, and so the SSR was set up. Peggy was initially thrilled to be working in such a secret branch of government, but her enthusiasm was dimmed when she realised that the entire office was male, and she was lumped with paperwork and settling in new recruits.

Still, her work on the structure of many SSR procedures and her detailed descriptions of the non-humans in the official SSR book were unparalleled, and this gave Peggy some comfort as she trawled through surveillance footage day after day.

She picked up a report on a series of unconfirmed sightings of a mage - it was probably nothing more than rumour, but Peggy was obliged to look into it. The stories told of a young woman, who kept herself quiet, but was working miracles on the corner of 6th Avenue. Informants had reported her ability to cure pneumonia, heal sick children and even help a soldier recover from the hallucinations he had experienced after the war. Peggy looked at the grainy images - there were only shadows, but they could form a human shape of she looked carefully.

Peggy had a gut feeling about this time. Mostly, her gut feeling told her the case was baloney, with apparent werewolf being a man with rather extreme chest hair and a monster looting a dumpster being a quite large and very vicious raccoon. This time, however, her gut told her it was the real thing. Besides, having spent the best part of three years studying mages, Peggy thought it was high time she got to meet one. She would begin the stakeout tonight, but not before she got some much needed coffee.

///

Even after Peggy moved into the Griffith, and got to see Angie almost every morning and evening, she still enjoyed going to see her at the L&L too. The tea was shocking, the pastries were always dry and the other patrons were arrogant and obnoxious, but Peggy didn't mind. She liked to go in when it was winding down after work, and Angie sometimes had a few minutes to spare to talk to her. Tonight was an unusually quiet night.

"Jeez Peg, I'm tellin ya, it hasn't been like this all day, I didn't get my lunch break because Sarah called in sick again, honestly, that girls either pregnant or weaker than a peach." Angie sighed, almost melting into the chair.

Peggy nodded sympathetically and drank a sip of her beverage.

"Busy for ya at the phone company?" Angie asked, but with a slight inflection that implied she didn't really believe Peggy worked for a telephone exchange. She even raised her eyebrow a little, almost inviting the challenge, but Peggy ignored it.

"Not very. I've got to pop back tonight to collect some paperwork that my boss lumped me with. Don't wait up." She added, as an afterthought, and it struck Peggy how foreign that concept felt to her. The feeling of having someone who would wait up for her was new; she couldn't decide what to make of it. Peggy was so lost in thought she almost missed Angie's reply.

"Sorry?"

Angie rolled her eyes. "I was sayin', English, that you gotta stop letting those fathead co-workers push you around. Quit that stupid job and come sing with me on Broadway!"

Peggy laughed, dribbling some coffee down her chin and Angie grinned mischievously. After deftly wiping at her face with a paper napkin, Peggy replied.

"Angie, darling, you know I can't sing." 

"Well," winked Angie, "I've made my views on your legs clear, Pegs - you've got a god given gift and I'm just tryin' to get you to share it with the world."

Peggy snorted again, but before she could reply, the red faced man on table 3 slammed his hands on the table. "When do I get some service in this dump?" He said, spit flying from his thin, cracked lips. Angie sighed and stood up.

"It was nice seein ya, Pegs. Hope you don't get too bogged down in paperwork - but the offer still stands, if you want it." 

On her way past, Angie's hand squeezed Peggy's shoulder, and Peggy felt she would very much like to boil the red faced man on table 3 for ruining such a lovely conversation. She drank the rest of her beverage quickly, before pulling on her coat and sweeping out of the door, not forgetting to give Angie a sizeable tip on her way out.

///

The stakeout proved fruitless, as did the next few days, so Peggy moved onto a different tactic. After work, instead of walking back to the Griffith, she rode the subway and took a bus to a small grimy side street in lower Manhattan. There, she walked into a run-down bar. It was empty, apart from a muscular bartender with downturned eyes, slowly polishing a glass, and a couple of drunks at the bar, faces lined and sagging from years of cheap liquor. Peggy walked past them; they did not spare her a second glance.

She entered a back room and descended the stairs into a basement, where a shadowy figure in blue overalls swirled a mop across the concrete floor, between dusty crates and boxes. She pulled a cord, and a single light buzzed into life in the centre of the room. The man recoiled, before turning to face the woman at the bottom of the stairs.

"Long time no see, Mr Oberman."

The man moved under the light, and Peggy could see his face clearly. His hair was long and dark, matted against the back of his neck, and his eyes were entirely black - no iris or pupil, just black. Around his mouth and nose were thin grey hairs, like whiskers, and his two front teeth stuck over his bottom lip. When he moved, he did so in staccato, and his nose was continuously twitching.

Peggy had picked Lemmy up after a radiation leak at General Atomics, just outside Boston. He had been working as a janitor, and was a little too close to a stray rat when the incident occurred. To cut a long story short, Lemmy was relocated to somewhere 'out of the way' and remained Peggy's most reliable informant. (Privately, she wondered if there was a rat in the Boston sewer with human teeth and eyes, but she decided not to dwell on it for long.)

Lemmy smacked his lips together, his teeth scrapping against his bottom lip.

"If you're here about that mess on 5th, I aint got nothin' to do with that, nothin', I was down here sweepin' and cleanin' and I didn't see nothin' I swear."

Peggy rolled her eyes. Lemmy's nose twitched.

"I'm unsure as to what you're referring to, Mr Oberman, but I'll certainly hear about it soon. I'm actually here on another matter."

Lemmy gestured for her to sit on a box, which she did, and he sat on one opposite.

"I heard there was a mage working on the corner of 6th Avenue - healing, helping and the like."

Peggy saw Lemmy shift uncomfortably.

"I don' know nothin' about that boss, I ain't been up that way in a long while, I don't know nothin' about a mage or nothin' and -"

He stopped abruptly when Peggy pulled a packet of cigarettes from her pocket, flicking open the lid and lifting one out. His nose twitched.

"I just want to talk to her." Peggy said slowly. "And I would never dream of telling her it was you who helped me."

Lemmy shook his head, looking away from the cigarette.

"No way, boss, she can read ya mind, she'll find me an' hurt me an' I ain't messing with that kinda magic. I heard she only heals, but I'm thinkin' if she can heal, she can hurt..."

"Mr Oberman. How do I speak to her?" Peggy said, more forcefully. It was getting late; she didn't want to waste any more time in an alcohol soaked basement. Lemmy looked back, resigned.

"You go down the alley at midnight, with your problem an' a gift an' she'll come to you. You won't see her face."

Peggy handed him the packet, which he ripped open, scattering cigarettes on the floor. He jammed one between his teeth and his hands shook as he lit the match.

Peggy got up, said her goodbyes and left. She'd never met a man, who was part rat, with such an addiction to cigarettes - but it did help in her various investigations.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update time!! :)

Now that Peggy had conclusive proof that there was a mage operating within New York - evidently without a license or any proper authorisation - Peggy spent the rest of the night writing up a report. Mages weren't inherently dangerous - an old woman with a knack for clearing up bunions and corns was never going to make the front pages - but some possessed such immense power that they themselves might not even know what to do with it. These individuals were registered and monitored, then assigned to a case agent to ensure their powers never got out of hand.

The next morning, Peggy put the finishing touches to her report and waited outside her boss' door, which helpfully had 'Chief Dooley' embossed on it in large gold letters. He invited her in, and Peggy groaned internally when she saw Jack Thompson already sat at the desk. The man was sexist, odious and enjoyed taking every opportunity to demean Peggy's work whilst taking her achievements to be his own. Chief Dooley pointed at the spare seat.

"Make it quick Carter. What have you got?"

Peggy placed the report on the desk and sat down, opening it to point to some key areas. "A Mage, operating on 6th Avenue. I have reliable intelligence that she's there and how to reach her, I just need the go ahead to take the case."

The Chief picked up the report, skimming over it, before placing it back on the desk. The, he pushed it towards Thompson. Peggy felt something swoop in her stomach as she realised what was happening.

"Good work, Carter, but Agent Thompson can take the case now."

Jack was grinning, picking up the report and placing it in his lap. "Good thing I just finished up on the Jersey Devil case. This one looks like it could be fun." 

Peggy turned to face her boss, her expression fierce. "But Sir, I gathered the intelligence! I could get results on this case."

Jacks grin widened and Peggy fought the urge to shove that smug head through the desk.

"I've made my decision." Dooley said. "Go back to whatever you were doing, Carter - maybe you can take the case next time."

Both Agents took this as their cue to leave. Peggy was so angry she was shaking, but Jack just smiled as he opened the door for her. "Better luck next time, Marge - maybe Dooley will promote you to pouring the coffee in the meetings, like a good secretary."

It took all of Peggy's restraint not to throw him out of the 5th story window.

/// 

By half 7, Peggy's anger had only grown. She couldn't stop thinking - how would she prove herself if she'd not been in the field yet? Would she be stuck at a desk for the rest her life? Even Rose and Sousa had been exceeding polite to her as she left the building, clearly aware of her dark mood.

To make matters worse, the rain was almost torrential, and Peggy had only taken a thin jacket with her in the morning, as she had rushed out the door, excited to hand in her report and get to work. Hating her own naïve optimism, Peggy began to shake again, hot tears forming and sticking to her lashes. 

She stopped; looking up. She'd walked to the bright sign of the L&L, but the interior was dark and empty. A door closed at the side, and Angie walked out. She gasped as she saw Peggy staring up at the sign, water running down her cheeks, her arms wrapped around her waist. Peggy turned her head, noticing her friend.

The met somewhere in the middle - Peggy, taller in her heels, buried her head in Angie's shoulder and encircled her waist with strong arms. Angie held onto her friend, fingers splayed across her back, not caring about the cold or the rain. She could her Peggy's small sobs, muffled in the collar of her diner uniform. When they broke apart, Peggy took a deep breath, smiling weakly.

"What's wrong?" Angie said, taking her friends hand in her own and running her thumb over her palm.

"I've ... I've had the worst day, darling, and I'm just tired." Peggy squeezed Angie's hand, linking their fingers together. "I'm glad you're here."

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder and a fresh bout of rain hurtled down the street, but Angie's soft smile seemed to make it bearable. Then, Peggy felt a tug on her hand, as Angie pulled her down the street, running towards the Griffith.

By the time they got back, both were soaking wet, with limp curls and ruined make-up, but both were laughing. Peggy felt her troubles were small, and best left in the rain - especially when Angie's hand was still firmly holding onto her own.

///

Time passed much the same after that. Peggy gained some degree of satisfaction watching Jack struggle with the case, but she soon became too engulfed in paperwork and a new batch of recruits to pay it much heed.

Then, two weeks later, a folder landed on her desk. Peggy flinched slightly, but Chief Dooley took no notice.

"Carter, you're back on the case." 

Peggy raised her eyebrows, and the Chief sighed, before elaborating.

"The Bloodhounds are acting up again, so I've put Thompson on that. The 6th Avenue case is yours again."

Peggy rolled her eyes. The Bloodhounds were a gang of exceedingly stupid criminals, who had decided to climb the illegitimate ladder by all getting bitten by a vampire. Unfortunately, it had not made them any more competent, just faster and more vicious. They had also become increasingly preoccupied with the idea of 'non-human rights', but as their protests came in the form of petty theft, the SSR were required to deal with them periodically. As it required lots of physical force and little thought, Peggy was routinely left out of these operations - but for the first time, she didn't mind. She had her case back. 

"Thank you, sir." Peggy said, suppressing her grin.

Dooley tapped the file with two fingers, meeting her eyes.

"I trust you got this, Carter. Don't let me down."

He turned and walked back into his office, and from the desk in front, Sousa turned around and gave her two thumbs up and a loop sided smile. Peggy beamed back, before gathering up the file along with the rest of her things. Tonight, she was going to get some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check back soon for chapter 3 yo :))


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope ya like it :)

It was 2 minutes to midnight when Peggy crept towards the alley. She wore a non-descript outfit of grey trousers, a shirt and overcoat, with her hair pinned up under a cap. No sense looking overly feminine - she'd rather not have to defend herself from drunk leering men on this night. In one hand, she held a jar of strawberry jam, which she set on the ground at the back of the alley.

She didn't have to wait long. A whisper of wind curled down the alley, settling on the jar and swirling around it. Peggy watched with fascination, palms sweating and heart beating faster. The mage was real; Peggy was right. Suddenly, a sound reverberated around the enclosed space - a low musical laugh. The air covered the gift, and Peggy stared as the jar dissolved - within seconds, it was almost as if it hadn't been there at all. The laughter tailed off, and a voice spoke. It was low, with no distinguishable accent or inflection, but Peggy was intoxicated anyway.

"Jam? That's new - I rather like it!"

Peggy tried to appear nonchalant by shrugging. "I figured everyone eats breakfast food."

The voice laughed again, and Peggy looked around the alley, but there was no sign of a person, only flickering shadows from the lights of passing cars.

"You need my help." It wasn't a question, but Peggy replied in the affirmative anyway.

"I will help you if you answer me these questions, but -"(The voice paused, and Peggy couldn't help but feel that it was for dramatic effect.) "- you must do so in no more than one word. Do you understand?"

"Why?"

The mage sounded a little surprised by her response, but replied in a measured way.

"You may have heard that I can read minds, but that isn't true. The clearest way to see your intentions is through a single word. Besides, it’s late, and there’s never enough time. Do you understand now?"

"Yes."

The voice replied, with the hint of a smile. "Okay. So, what is it you need help with?"

Peggy replied after a beat of silence.

"Grief."

"Oh? You've lost someone - who?" the voice replied, not unkindly.

"Solider." 

"Did you love him?"

A pause, Peggy tried to regain her composure.

"Almost." 

"Why?" 

"Kind."

Another pause.

"What are you?" The voice said, slowly.

"Solider."

"A solider? So have you lost others?" The voice sounded confused and curious, and Peggy realised that she may be in over her head. The swarm of memories was rising like a tidal wave in her chest; threatening to overwhelm her.

"Many."

"What do you need my help to do?"

"Live."

"Not forget?"

"Never." Peggy said, with conviction.

"Okay. Why me? Why my help?"

The last one confounded Peggy, but she replied after a beat.

"Trust."

The voice was silent, and Peggy wondered if she'd said the wrong thing. The only sound came from the oblivious cars speeding past and the soft breath of the wind. Then, she spoke again.

"Okay. I will help you. Come back tomorrow, with a memory of this man, a bottle and your full name."

"My name? Why would you need that?" Peggy said, curious, before she realised she had used several words. The voice did not seem to mind.

"A full name is a powerful thing, my friend. No help could ever be given without it."

"Thank you." Peggy said into the darkness. The mage laughed again.

"Thank you for the jam." 

Wind swept through the alley, and although the view looked much the same, Peggy felt alone again. She allowed herself a small smile.

///

The next day, Peggy was too excited to do anything productive. She had left the Griffith so early that no one had been up, but at work she just endlessly shuffled papers and bounced her pen on the corner of the desk. She'd met Jarvis at the diner and he'd commented how jittery she was, but Peggy brushed it off. She knew she couldn't get cocky - she still had to find a way to bring the Mage into the SSR. She felt a little guilty for deceiving someone who was so willing to help, but Peggy figured that the young woman would understand the need to have her powers kept in check. If she could also help Peggy move on from the terrible sadness she felt when thinking about Steve that would be no bad thing either.

She dressed in an outfit much the same as the previous night, and was a little out of breath when she skidded into the alley at quarter past midnight. Unfortunately, some late night drinkers had seen through her (admittedly poor) disguise, and she'd had to deal with them. As soon as the final one had smacked onto the concrete, Peggy took off running. She slowed as she walked down the alley, and as she got to the end, the voice spoke again.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

Peggy opened her mouth to explain, but the voice cut her off.

"No matter. We'll begin immediately. Do you have everything?" 

The English woman tugged the small leather bag off of her shoulders and brought out an old glass perfume bottle and two flattened pieces of metal on a chain - Steve's dog tags.

"Oh - and my name. It's Margaret, Margaret Elizabeth Carter."

There was silence.

Peggy wondered if something was wrong.

Then the voice spoke again, and the wind in the alley picked up, swirling around Peggy until the edges of her coat were fluttering.

"Very well, Margaret Elizabeth Carter. Hold on."

Peggy squinted, as a dark shape came down the alley towards her - the wind got faster and faster, until, with a great tug, she felt like she was being pulled underwater, she couldn't breathe. All she could see were pinpricks of light in the swirling, suffocating clouds, she closed her eyes. 

Then, it was over. She sat up and opened her eyes, gasping for breath.

She looked around.

With a small noise of surprise, she noted that she was no longer in the alley, but in a room which looked to be a cross between a library and a Victorian pharmacy. The room was roughly rectangular in shape, with a rickety staircase on the wall furthest from Peggy, which led up to a loft. Tall, dark wood bookcases lined the walls, filled with thick, dusty tomes. Peggy stood up, shakily, and walked over to them. She traced their spines gently, picking out the gold lettering - The Ancient Art of Magic by Millard Fillmore, Spells and Charms for Beginners by Woodrow Wilson, A Hundred Uses for a Frog by Zachary Taylor - the list went on. Amongst the books were all manner of knick knacks - tall twisted vases, overhanging plants (some festooned with tiny spiders), dried herbs and crystals, some raw and others cut and on long, gold chains. Books were also piled up on the wooden floor, which was also haphazardly covered in a variety of dark red and gold rugs. The same fabric fell in parts from the ceiling, radiating out from a central chandelier, which was a dull gold, and lit by flickering candles. Some animal skins and dried flowers also hung from the sides of the ceiling. As Peggy made her way slowly down the room, she noticed more peculiarities - an ancient glass cabinet, with jars inside, filled with various coloured liquids, a glass ball, hung from the ceiling, filled with hornets, and a strong, musty smell, which reminded Peggy of wood smoke and lavender. A cat also made its way nimbly down the room, coming to rest in front of Peggy. It had a brown coat speckled with gold, and large blue eyes, which stared up at Peggy expectantly.

She kept walking. At the far end of the room, there were two regal, yet dusty, armchairs, with an ancient tea set between them. Peggy gently reached to touch the kettle - it was still warm. Then, the voice spoke, from up in the small loft.

"Do you like it? Not many people see this far."

Peggy nodded, then spoke. "It's certainly ... traditional. Where am I, exactly?"

The voice laughed, just for a moment. "You're nowhere. Now, come up here, and we shall get started."

Peggy didn't move.

"How did I get here?"

The voice spoke again, if a little impatiently.

"With your name, your mind is like a door. Now, Peggy, hurry up, we've all got places to be." 

Peggy felt sick, and felt the room start to spin underneath her.

"I never said that." she whispered.

"Said what?"

"That my name was Peggy."

She picked up the tea pot and hurled it against the opposite wall. The illusion was shattered - the walls fractured, splitting into thousands of pieces, the universe itself ripping apart. The voice screamed. "This isn't real." yelled Peggy. "And doors open both ways. I'm from the SSR - and when this ends, you needs to come with me." This time, Peggy was prepared - she landed on two feet. There, at the end of the alley, shaking and crying, was Angie Martinelli.

"How did you know?" She whispered, as Peggy walked toward her, almost in a state of shock.

"The spell books were written by American Presidents; I learnt them when I was twelve." Peggy said, hand instinctively reaching for Angie's. "I ... I had no -" Angie's hand grasped her own, and she stopped, suddenly feeling woozy. She dropped to her knees. Angie was still in her field of vision, and her friend helped lower her to the floor.

"Oh, Pegs ... you're too smart, y'know that. I can't let you take me to the feds. If ... if you love me, in any way, then don't look for me."

She pressed a kiss to her forehead, and let go of her hand. Peggy tried to talk, to protest, but she couldn't move. She could barely keep her eyes open. The street lamps cast a glow that illuminated Angie, casting her in pale golden light, and Peggy saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. Then, she was gone, and Peggy's body gave out on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gasp! whats gonna happen?? will poor bi peggy ever find happiness? will i ever stop writing cartinelli?? stayed tuned to find out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final chapter!! thanks for sticking with me :))

When she got back to the Griffith in the early morning, Angie was gone. Mrs Fry insisted she had just gone to visit a sick relative, but her room was completely bare. Within three weeks, a new girl had moved in - Barbara or Bobbi or something. Peggy didn't bother remembering.

She did what needed to be done. She withdrew the file, disposed of the evidence, and told Chief Dooley that she was mistaken. It wasn't a mage; just gossip and street rumours. Peggy didn't know what was worse - Jack's hoots of laughter, Daniel's pitying looks or the fact that Dooley did promote her to making coffee for meetings. The rest of her day was spent filing traffic reports or answering calls when the men went out on missions. She hated it, but took as many extra hours as possible - because she hated not being at work even more. 

Her room at the Griffith was cold and lonely, and Peggy couldn't sleep. The light faded through the blinds, cold and silver. She tossed and turned, alternating between staring at the ceiling or staring at the clock by her bed, listening to it tick rhythmically. Behind that, was a picture of Steve. Peggy had no pictures of Angie. Thoughts chased themselves around her brain like the rats in the sewers below her - reaching only one, long realised conclusion.

She was in love with Angie Martinelli. 

So much so, that despite the terrible ache in her chest, she kept her promise, and did not look for her. Peggy knew loss and grief - an old friend from the war, but this time, it was poisoned - she had driven Angie away, she had made her feel unsafe and unwelcome. 

For months, Peggy's room was cold and lonely, and she only cried when she had too much to drink.

///

Many months later, when the case in LA came up, she took it. Jarvis had been exceedingly kind to her throughout the ordeal; never asking awkward questions or pushing too far, and Peggy couldn't thank him enough for it. She enjoyed staying at the Stark mansion, filling her time with some useful field work.

She was out with Sousa in a busy shopping mall, reassuring store owners and shoppers that the "fire baby" they had seen was just a pyrotechnic stunt, when she saw Angie.

Sat on a bench, wearing a blue sundress and a white floppy hat.

Peggy couldn't breathe. 

"Hey, Carter, you there? I was asking you about ..."

Peggy snapped back round to face Sousa. 

"What?" she said, dazed.

"Peggy? Are you okay?" Sousa said, not unkindly, but Peggy was already turning back to the bench.

She was gone.

Peggy pushed forward, through the crowds of people, but Angie was nowhere to be seen. Then, a baby, with large white wings, and a flaming bow and arrow burst through the ceiling, and all hell broke loose.

When she got home in the early hours of the morning, Peggy had convinced herself that she had been mistaken.

//

The next day, she left work in the early evening - the sky was pale gold, with some speckled clouds dotting the horizon. Peggy walked the straight path along the seafront, staring at the flecks of sunlight illuminated on the water and the long shadows of the palm trees across the pavement. Elderly couples ambled by, and the occasional roller-skater, moving as if in slow motion, passed her without a second glance. In the distance, she could see a pier, with a big top at the end, and she could just about make out the shrieks of delight and the tinny music playing from the loudspeakers. 

Peggy stopped, suddenly. Not 50 yards ahead, sitting on a bench, was Angie. She was wearing the same outfit as the day before, only without the hat. Peggy froze, her stomach doing all manner of tricks and swoops. Angie turned, and smiled at her, giving a little wave.

Peggy walked forward, as if in a dream.

She sat down next to Angie, and their eyes met.

"Hello." Angie said, quietly. 

Peggy's thoughts were tumbling inside her head and she could only stare, slightly open mouthed, at her friend. The things that needed to be said, the really important things, were stuck in the back of her throat.

"You came back." Peggy said, eventually, her hand finding Angie's on the bench. In front of them, an oblivious man in a suit whipped past.

Angie nodded. 

"Why ... why did you leave?" Peggy asked slowly. She was still a little convinced that this was all a dream, but Angie's hand felt solid in her own.

"I couldn't let you put me on the register." Angie sighed, and looked out towards the setting sun. "I'm sure you don't know, but if you'd assigned me to an agent, it would've been the end of everything. They stop ya from getting jobs, turn up uninvited and take things from you. I could've been kicked out, forced to live quietly in some basement somewhere. I couldn't, I jus' couldn't."

Peggy squeezed her hand. 

"I'm so sorry darling. I had no idea."

Angie was silent for a moment, then turned to smile at Peggy. "I know. You didn't send anyone out looking for me."

It wasn't a question, but Peggy shook her head anyway. "No. I burnt the file. There's no trace of you at the SSR anymore."

"I knew you didn't work at a telephone company." Angie grinned, before it was lost suddenly. "Oh! Did ... did it set you back? Havin' to pretend like I was a fraud or somethin'?"

"Only by a few months. But I'm able to do field work out here, so it's not too bad." Peggy couldn't believe Angie's concern for her career at the expense of her own happiness, and Peggy loved her all the more for it. "How did you get out here?"

Angie grinned, with the hand not holding Peggy's reaching into the air, like she was about to conduct an orchestra. "I walked. Or ran, or took a train, or hitched in someone’s truck or bus. I worked at little café's on the way, tryin' to save some to come out here to work on a movie or somethin'."

"I'm sorry you had to leave everything behind." Peggy said quietly.

Angie's other hand reached down to hold the one bunched in Peggy's lap.

"Pegs, you don' need to keep apologising, you're gonna give me a complex. I can write to my ma and pa, and that’s fine."

Peggy stared at the hands she held, too scared to meet Angie's eyes.

"Why did you come back?"

There was silence.

"Same reason I asked you to let me go." Angie said quietly. 

Peggy looked up, and Angie was smiling, even though her eyes were wet with tears. She leant forward, suddenly, and kissed Angie on the lips. Angie's eyes were wide when she pulled away, but the world seemed to have taken on a strange shimmer. A teddy boy on roller-skates moved as if he were in treacle. As Peggy turned back, Angie was blushing profusely.

"Sorry!" She squeaked. "That happens sometimes. Especially when I'm nervous."

Peggy was still confused, but found Angie's fluster adorable.

"No one can see us." Angie elaborated. "It's the same trick I used back in New York."

Peggy smiled. "If no one can see us..."

She leant forward, and they met somewhere in the middle. Peggy released Angie's hands, and put hers around Angie's waist, whilst Angie moved hers to Peggy's hair. Peggy felt like her heart was ablaze - like the carnival in the middle distance, like the fireworks on VE day. The war was over; she could finally go home. The kiss lasted only a moment, and when they pulled back, both realised they were crying. 

"I love you." Angie said, simply, as the tears dribbled over her cheeks.

"Oh, darling." Peggy's hand moved up to brush the tears away. "I love you too, more than anything."

They held each other softly, the moment passing slowly, even without the wisps of magic in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u like it?? if ya did, pls comment, kudos nd share with ur cartinelli trash friends! :))


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